http://slow.writerscafe.org/wilyemclark The original writings of author Wilyem Clark en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776102966 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Who knew this day would come at last?Born amid the Cold War's fury,The rhetoric and imminent dangerOf fire falling from the sky;Raised in eras of decadent plenty;Dodging the pitfalls of overindulgence;Riding crests of love, always easing and ebbing;Weaving a path through potential care.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3130985/ We stood by the road like motley subjectsAwaiting the emperor's gilded sedan.We cheered, not for a high and mightyObscenity lumber-trundling past,But to answer the tuneless cantataOf auto horns and hauler hootsSounding in fly-by sympathy.We jiggled our picketed scrapboard signsAnd wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3130725/ The war intrudes on our brains only lightly,And its ravages--savage and unsightly--Are reflected in prices and travel troubles,Mere nuisances, minor burstings of bubbles.Hard to equate with demolished quarters,Loss of life, orphaned sons and daughters,Chaos, anger, desperation, and grief.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3129988/ Happy are theyWho forge friendships early,Who stake out their futuresBefore their senescence.Happy are theyWho know how to smile,Whose worthier deedsScatter charity widely.Happy are theyWho comfort and nurtureDisconsolate othersAnd accept care in turn.Happy are theyOn.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3128371/ In my dreams I revisitMy childhood home,In perfect condition and much enlarged:Courses of cinderblock stairstep starward,And grandiose lawns sweep boundlessly,Yet, like a spooky, cobwebbed house,The tenants are missing.I feel their lingering presence, though,My mother mostly,Ghosti.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3127032/ If I had done it all differently,I wouldn't be here, concocting for you,My elegant readers.I would have been ruined,Trammeled and tarnished byThose slick gladhandlers, the market-savvyMidwives of b*****d artistry.My labors would have been riddled withThe vilest of defects:Conventio.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3126470/ On the night the last star winks out and dies,That is when I'll ponder mortality.Till then, I'll envision a future unbounded;And beyond? Let the world run amok and rot.Between the now and the unseen end,I drift--unknown and unrequited--A purposeless person whose nebular dreamsNever con.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3125673/ The snow imprisons usIn improvised fortsOf drifts and piles and a wounding wind.We burrow deep and refuge inOur badger bunkers.Armies of snowfolk--Stick-boned, lopskulled--Lay siege; their soulless black eyesAnd rotund tummiesGive us nightmares.O, for an allyTo tunnel in, to wa.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3124952/ How can this be the joyous seasonWhen nefarious acts confound all reasonAnd devious nobs reign uncontrolled,Conspire disastrous plots to unfold?A million shames upon our nationFor voting in this devastation,Exalting a lackwit dumpster crew,Then wondering why things went askew.Odious .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3122040/ Should not a man in his ghostly yearsBe offered recompense for labors doneWith purity of art, sincere devotion,With intellect and skill elsewise untried?Not for gaugeable gains, his wages,But interest unaccountable by math,A modest accolade in Roman, lower case,Appearing near the botto.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3121977/ To delectify the poet's craft,Empson recommends a schmearOf ambiguiosityOn every line, in every ear.He sends a fleet of tricksy blimpsFar into ArcadiaTo scrutinize it deathly dear,To pulverize its crania.So--like Newton, stooped by Blake--With compass splayed to measure strophe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3121356/ This arctic weather is painful, Doc,I can't jog around in shorts and a smock,My wooliest wearables barely warmMy core against the snow-blowing storm.This frigid blast belongs up north,In upper Greenland, for what it's worth.The romantic ideal of icy DecembersDoesn't sit well with us sh.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3121031/ Once more unto the social breach?A rift, alas, there never was--The curtain wall remains intact,Same as always. It cannot beSurmounted, sapped, or vaulted over;No aerostat may rise aboveIts airy rim.O! Inside (I've heard) it's paradise!A spectral land of warm embraces,Sleepy Sunday.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3119065/ The sere wind scoursEvery molecule of moistureFrom puddles, from skin, from lips.Feet crack, heels roughen, toe-tips ache,The sun may shine but fails to warm.This winter blast is premature;Our arctic duds are packed away,Our minds are stuck in tropic zones;Thermostats demand adjustme.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3094573/ Speak, why don't you, Void,And tell me what you are thinking?It's lonely out here, Void,And I have only myselfTo console me.My peers have wandered offAnd newcomers ignore me,Turn their noses up at dated stock,Care only for flash and fleeting fads.What of my life, my works,My love.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/3065094/ What am I but a cup of coffeeOnce every Friday?Nameless unlessThey need a call sign,A handle mishandled and mispronounced,Meaningless.Who am I? A recurrent strangerKnown briefly and forgotten.The counterpeople come and go,Minimum wage can't hold them.Cafes like this one belie the.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2964325/ Too many words and too few actions!We hide ourselves in drizzly clouds,Fog up our sunny day potentials--Far easier to obfuscate,For clarity harbingers resolution.Liars and procrastinatorsPermeate society,Seek to silence earnest voices,Long to stagnate polities.Reality, the bitter.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2963611/ . . . wash up on concrete sidewalk shores,Skitter-flap and expire. Ta-ta to them,But others flit into verdant havensTo go about their promiscuous business.Any plant may give the lanternfly succorAs it roves and seeks its favorite host,Tree-of-heaven, wastelot shade,Also alien. Just let.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2962831/ Coal mine canary sedated for singing,Guard dog muzzled for barking at thieves,This diehard proponent of righting wrongsWas crucified for his honesty.He tilted at titans and was crushed;To be expected, one might say.A journalist rarely acknowledged as such,A contributor to Anonymous,H.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2961178/ Life reduced to bare essentials,The cycle of time with scant relief;Those given to practicing meditation,Or self-absorbed in entertainments,The evacuations of the brain,Are not disturbed by treadmill sameness.(What year is this? That stickie has slippedOff the corkboard of the insoucia.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2960518/ He likes to poke his porky noseInto pickle pies wherever he goes.Ignoring limits, ignoring laws,He tramples rights with his pudgy paws.The product of ego overfed,He consumes and voids on every head.A destroyer of beauty: since roses have thorns,Roses too he refuses, abuses, and scorns... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2957404/ Billows of milty dust drift away,Away from the site. They're tearing downThe old anchor store, built beforeIndoor malls were the rage.The multi-level parking garage!The concrete pillars!The mystery of the spiral ramp!At first it looked like they might preserveThe blocky structure.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2954082/ Archimedes in his tubSaid: "Gladys, dear, give me a scrub."She rubbed, and when she'd raked him raw,He told her, "Sheathe that iron claw!"Poseidon in his frothy lairDespised his bowls of fishy fare--"Bring me meat from pastured beasts,Or I shall die from finny feasts!"Bacchus hea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2951108/ Until you have mastered mathematics,Astronomy, kinetics, and atomical nature,And have probed the whole cosmos top to bottom--Macro, middlemost, and micro--Do not dare to enter the labyrinthOf metaphysics,Deem yourself worthy to speak for divinities,Rank yourself so saintly an agentAs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2947907/ Foolish fancy, to dog success!It fails to furnish satisfaction;Instead it churns up froth and noise,False gratitude and anemic applause.Immodesty feasts on its afterbirth.Even the Samsons among us succumb,Drop like brittle leaves and crumbleUnder successors' humbling tread.Tempta.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2947612/ Friendships founded decades ago,Flannel soft and warm at first,Now worn and tearing at the seams.Discard old rags? I have, but thenI wander bare through friendless dreams.Sweat and pant, establish goalsIn gym exertions, ephemeral grails,For time abrades the toughest gears;They crac.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2947367/ Needed now, apply within:A legion of free-minded thinkersWhose courage cannot be diminished,Whose voices cannot be stifled,Whose spirits are ever replenished.A cadre of righteous writersTo supersede the screedOf witless fantasizers,Deceivers in word and deed.Footsoldiers for .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2945883/ Ivory irises:Their lemonade tonguesCan't eke out a commentWith rhizomes for lungs;But voluble violetsBeing smashed under feetCry "Mercy!" at bootsoles,Beg hikers retreat. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2943295/ The hermit hears the callingOn the far side of the river;The hermit hears it daily,But he cannot cross the river:The currents are too savage,And the water never slackens;The waters are benumbingAnd they swirl without forgiveness.Some stepping-stones show promise,So the hermit light.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2942876/ Mysteria wisteriaDandy lions rampantDogwoods resilientBluebells transcendentRedbuds in excelsis!Don't go, don't go,Don't get sucked in the undertow.Don't let it pull youDown below,So low, below,Where the starfish glow.Live, breathe, and do not grieve,Let teardrops dry upo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2941409/ Micro-ants, so cute and cuddly,Invade my bathroom whenever I errAnd leave my toothpaste on a shelfIn the carpeted john. They come from beyond,Through the walls, from inner spaces they march.But why the bathroom? Why not my pantry,A trove of sugary treats and eatsFar more enticing and l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2940388/ Desire destroys, fame inflamesAnd havocs innocent spirits.The creative being is better offHobbling through an unsung wasteThan speeding over champion heightsBursting with accolades and roses.Commercialism corrupts; it robsImagination of its riches, shoves vanityInto the poet's arms a.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2940254/ I want to dive downwards into the skyReflected in the emptinessI hold in my hand:Moody, brooding, laced with branchesThat fracture the ribbony nullitude.To escape if only for moments this madness,Self-inflicted, that harrows the masses,That gnaws at the decency of our people,Fouling .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2938187/ They race like rabbits,Too fast for an old houndTo keep apace.Who'd want them, anyway?Vapid in speech, idle in thought,Plugged into devices,Proud of their skinblotsAnd painted nails (no longer risqué),Megabushel consumersAnd multitun wasters,These sowers of futureHumanit.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2936192/ I like how you run on the bending bikeway:Erect, sure-footed, lean, and lostIn concentration, your pace never slacking,Your heart pitter-patting in synch with the beat ofAn earbud tune.I spot you from the overpassAnd watch;Though lame and envious of thoseWith cadence unimpaired, who .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2934796/ I seem to connect withChildren, crazy people, dogs.What shared frequency is this,What affinity,That attracts the less articulate flocks,That opens ESPish channels,That draws me into their skewed domains?It must be our respective isolations--Infolded, volute, vulnerable--That weaken.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2934455/ I've had two brothers, neither relatedTo me or each other in any fashion.One shy, retreating from sparse assemblies,The second, exuberant beyond belief.Both cheerful and droll and optimistic,Traits my acid could not dissolve.The first dropped out of my life without notice:Thinking that.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2933958/ Every morning I gaze at it,The colorful map I've bleached and tintedWith denim shades of indigo.And as I work--as I open a window,Occlude a nation, and with a mouse-tapBlot out cities with my files--I can't restrain my eye from wanderingAlong a river, the Schweis, or maybeThe Gnaden .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2929037/ A humble man, a noble manWhose election fell in the four-year caesuraDividing the flagrant corruption andThe ponderous Hollywood vanity ofTwo bordering electorial spans.Political hardhats made fun of him--A peanut farmer, a hick, a rube;A religiously minded yet practical gentWhose na.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2925700/ Which brings me back toThe unresolved questionFor anyone with a delving mind:What is my place in this pitiless world?If not on the rostrumHanding out dicta,If not in the chorusLending my voice,If not by the easelPainting a picture . . .Where should I stand?What should I be?I .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2923280/ I don't like attention, no how no way:I shy from it, point to others and say,"Talk to them, leave me the hell alone."But I pay for the pleasureOf hiding from sight;I bask in self-censure,Deny any delightBy turning my back on the cavalcade:I veer sharp left when most turn right,Brea.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2922002/ Lincoln has been proven wrong:You can fool all the peopleAll of the time,Or at least for staggered quadrenniums,Fooled so deeply, so profoundly,It boggles the rational human mind.New generations, weaned on vidbits,Can't seem to separate truth from lies;It only takes a small claque of.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2920598/ My parents worked with aeronauts;They peregrinated everywhere,And took me with them east and westOn flights across this continent,Across the seas to distant lands,Through curtains made of iron mesh,Past borders marked with weathered cairns.A heady time, especiallySince they, though l.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2908695/ Lord, how Miller could fulminate,Decry his low station in life, then professNot to care--a lesson that I should heed?His relentless whine,Even when bragging,Discolors his colorful neon vistas.Impressive, his rapturous laundry lists--Exhaustive, exhausting, excruciating--But to what e.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2907647/ There's a candidate out thereIn the fieldWhose name, like thatOf Rowling's villain,I cannot bear to hear or speak:I call him Frump.Far more fitting perhapsIs Grump, yet note!If clumps of Frumpy contumeliesAssail and prick and rile me,Companion barbs come flying offMy saucy tong.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2906624/ Helene was my mother's name . . .And now a likewise-aliased stormIs wheeling across the Gulf in her honor,Or so I'd like to believe.Independent, beholden to none,Stiff-lipped, toilful,No-nonsense Yankee,She chewed up fools and spat them out,My father chief among them.The fights bet.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2906623/ Autumn clematis blankets the hedgesIn petaled snowfalls;Perky zinnias refuse to wither;Angel wings, nodding fair,Abound along a low brick wall;And four o'clocks stave off despondence.Here in mid-September, in a drought,I find such lovelies to cheer about. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2905444/ The Bard looks down on his stolen domainAnd despairs.This realm would be his but for the tenetsOf adequacy.The once-fertile land has been debasedTo a passionless kingdom, a dominion drainedOf wit and jarring emotional truth;In their place: tawdry sentiments borrowed fromThe Hallmark .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2904470/ These are the commoners' tombs,These are the catacombs of the once-living;Trapped in chambers of emphatic habit,They lack self-sufficiency and inspiration.(Not their fault, they were raised that way.)Insectile embryos in stasis,Dulled by convention,They shift their limbs autonomically:.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2902794/ The hibiscuses are flourishingIn their tidy sloughWithin the triple intersticeOf layby lanes.Wilty crimson disksProclaim their impassivity,Their resilience, their immunityTo drought.And even after frost and sleetReduce them to fibrosity,I'll rest assured they will reviveAnd spi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/wilyemclark/2902270/